


Distractions

by LynnLarsh



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, minor exhibitionism, tension galore!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 08:05:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LynnLarsh/pseuds/LynnLarsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The bastard was right.  It was always the same back and forth, the same stubborn attempts, but in the end...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distractions

**Author's Note:**

> My long overdue fic for the wonderful person who bid on me (and won xD) in the Ao3 Fundraiser a while back. She requested some delicious War x Dick moments, so hopefully I provided. Thanks again, love, for thinking me worthy enough to bid on!

Distractions

 

He knew who it was before the knock ever sounded. 

“Not interested,” Dick sighed, typing up a bullshit statistics report for a bullshit sales rep in some bullshit organization that he’d created. This was his life now. Thank god the perks justified the tedium. 

Another knock echoed hard and loud against the wood of his office door.

Well, most perks.

“I said, I’m not interested.” Dick frowned, sending the fabricated sales review to one of his many hands in lower-executive managing. “Not anymore.”

“You can’t mean that,” that all too sickeningly, sinfully familiar voice leaked beneath the door and wrapped around Dick’s ankles, pulling him down, in, outside of himself in a way that only War could. “In fact,” War’s aggravatingly sensuous baritone resonated at level clearly meant to persuade. “I know you don’t. So let me in.”

“Switzerland hasn’t been at war in generations.” Dick ran a hand over his face. “And was that death toll really necessary? I mean-” He cut himself off with a groan. The Turduckin was supposed to have gone worldwide within the week, but priorities had been switched, fatalities had been tallied, and Dick had been stuck in No-Man’s Land for weeks with more than his fair share of temptation. All thanks to a little “ring spin” from the man on the other side of his door. “Your timing was terrible.”

“Nearly five hundred years without war, to be exact. The Swiss were due.” And then, with a jiggle of the handle, “You know me, Richard!” War chuckled loftily. “You can’t expect me to stay still when there’s still so much fun to be had.”

“Since you seem to be having so much fun on your own,” Dick frowned, not so much paying attention to his computer anymore as he was moving the mouse around the screen and staring at his annoyed reflection. He’d never forgiven him. Not really. So this was just icing on the cake. “Why don’t you go drag Japan into an unnecessary war that will fuck up my plans. Or better yet, how about whatever population still exists on Antarctica? Might as well be diligent about it.”

A thick, unpleasant silence followed, one that sat heavy and uncomfortable beneath Dick’s skin. This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. This wasn’t what he was good at. Human manipulation, foolproof plans of nationwide destruction? Perfectly fine. Anything else? Any _one_ else…? Dick rubbed hard at his eyes, frowning deeper. 

“This isn’t about the war in Switzerland, is it?” War sighed, but even Dick could tell it held no genuine discontent. Which only made it that much worse.

“You know it’s not,” Dick caved a bit, gritting his teeth. He pushed his laptop a few inches out of reach and leaned back in his chair. “So go away. I told you, I’m not interested.” Because when War came around, it was only for one thing. Even if he pretended sometimes, lied sometimes, it was something Dick knew too well of War. The Horseman was urge incarnate. Very little else existed beyond that.

But just because he was aware of that fact didn’t make days like this any easier.

“You and I both know that’s not true,” War’s voice suddenly whispered low and hot in Dick’s ear. “You’ve never been good at saying no to me. It would be a shame to start now.”

Dick felt himself shifting closer to that voice, imagining the wet heat of the mouth spewing such awful truths. Because the bastard was right. It was always the same back and forth, the same stubborn attempts, but in the end-

_“I have… I have to be on air-Oh fuck-in two minutes. This is hardly the time for-”_

_“I’ve brought you off in less,” War winked at him from his position on his knees, hands holding tight to Dick’s upper thighs, keeping them spread. “Your public will be none the wiser.” And with that, he promptly resumed downing the entire length of Dick’s cock in one go, the feel of wet suction and heat nearly making Dick’s legs buckle._

_“You c-can’t keep doing this,” Dick whispered, but the hand not loosely covering his mouth was already tangled in War’s hair, the waver in his voice giving away his steadily crumbling resolve. Regardless, War pulled off with an audible pop that shouldn’t have been as erotic as it was._

_“Do you want me to stop?” War asked, face feigning an innocence that did nothing to hide his smug assumptions. Not that they weren’t perfectly sound._

_“Fuck you,” Dick growled, adding his free hand to War’s disheveled strands and leading his prick back towards that now smirking set of bruised and spit-slick lips._

_“Next time,” War winked and sucked him back in to the hilt, Dick’s head falling back as his eyes fluttered closed._

_There was no fear of gag reflex with War’s manifested body, not like Dick’s stolen meat suit, prone to all manner of aggravating human faults. No, with War, there was only a slick throat to buck into deep and hard and fast, Dick’s hands tightening as he rocked his hips forward into War’s willing and talented mouth._

_“Fuck I’m close,” Dick panted through gritted teeth. The hum of approval War offered in return nearly yanked Dick over the edge, but it was the subtle, shifting rhythm of War’s hand on his own cock that finally did him in. With one last buck of his hips, Dick came hard down War’s throat, stars popping behind his eyes as he struggled to keep himself on his feet. He nearly missed the grunt of War following suit, the way his sensitive skin slipped free of that perfect mouth more than a bit distracting._

_“See? Thirty seconds to spare,” War grinned as he got back to his feet, already tucked back in and looking no worse for wear. Dick on the other hand…_

_“Dammit, War,” Dick glared at him, doing his best to right his own state of semi-undress before he was called. One of these days they were going to get caught, and all he’d worked for, all the progress he’d made, would be lost. His image was all he had right now, his only hand in a poker game with too many players. The last thing he needed was complication._

_As satisfied as he could hope to be, Dick turned towards the door to the studio. After this broadcast, they were going to have to have another talk. Not that it would do them any good, if history proved anything. Still, “This isn’t over,” Dick huffed, hand already on the door handle._

_As if completely oblivious to Dick’s actually meaning, which would have been as shocking as Lucifer refusing an all access pass back out of the pit, War merely chuckled. “I certainly hope so,” he replied to Dick’s back._

“Get out,” Dick heard himself sigh, the words tight and forced but unwavering. The presence as his back removed itself some but didn’t leave completely. “I said,” Dick tried again, getting abruptly to his feet and spinning to face the man, god, myth before him. “Get. Out!” Dick emphasized his shout by grabbing the nearest thing he could think of---a mug with the national emblem for the Turducken stamped across the front… Ironic---and hurled it in War’s direction. As expected, the man side stepped the attack easily, the mug shattering quite effectively against the wall.

“Dick,” War frowned, looking from Dick to the remains of the mug and back, eyes narrowing. “What’s this about?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Dick hissed, balling his hands into fists against the wood of his desk, knuckles white with the tension. “Don’t you dare.” When it looked like War was holding fast to his feigned---or completely sincere?---confusion, Dick huffed out a pained sigh and forced his gaze somewhere else, anywhere else. “We need to stop this.”

“This…?” War’s frown only deepened. “What do you mean _this_?”

Dick rolled his eyes. “This!” He growled. “Us. Whatever the fuck we’re doing, it… It just needs to stop.” He ran a hand over his face, gritting his teeth through the reiteration. “We need to stop.”

“I don’t understand,” War chuckled, actually _chuckled_ , and Dick felt his stomach drop. “It’s fun! Stress relief. A much needed reprieve from the tedium.”

“It’s a distraction,” Dick narrowed his eyes at the man, willing him to understand. Willing him to go.

_Just that little bit deeper and Dick saw stars, his mouth falling open as his eyes rolled back into his head. “Oh my god…” he breathed, barely registering the vibration of sound coming from beneath him as War’s familiar chuckle._

_“There we are,” War moaned blissfully, settling in to the hilt before relaxing, letting Dick get used to the feeling of being so entirely and utterly filled._

_“Fuck, that’s-” Dick tried, but---in a way that was completely unfamiliar---words failed him. So instead, he just moaned, locking his ankles at the small of War’s back and holding there, keeping him there._

_“It’s nothing compared to what’s coming next,” War smirked into Dick’s neck, punctuating his promise with a slow roll of his hips, pushing himself deeper still. Dick had to bite his lip to keep from crying out. It was too delicious, too perfect, too everything. All coherent thought was slowly abandoning him and Dick didn’t know whether to be eager or terrified._

_When the wait was simply too much, Dick opted for eager._

_“Move,” he choked out, arching his hips against War’s, struggling to start some sort of pace. War laughed into the juncture where Dick’s neck met his shoulder, mumbling something Dick couldn’t quite hear before following suit, pulling out halfway and thrusting back in. Dick gasped, eyes snapping open---when had he closed them?---and jaw falling slack._

_“That what you want then, baby?” War growled against his skin, tonguing at his pulse point, the steady strum of a human heartbeat enhanced by Leviathan blood. Dick felt his skin grow hotter, more sensitive, the run of War’s teeth against his jawline actually making him shiver. “Tell me what you want,” War was still speaking. “Tell me what you need.”_

_Dick barely hesitated, pulling him in close by the hair at the nape of his neck. “Fuck me,” he whispered, voice hoarse with need. “Harder.”_

_War obliged without another word, pounding into Dick with an enthusiasm that left him breathless, both of them panting and desperate and teetering on the edge in minutes._

_“Please,” Dick heard himself beg---him… actually begging…---over and over again, “War, please, fuck, please, just, shit, fuck, please, fuck!” And somehow War managed to translate, wrapping a hand around Dick’s aching cock and fisting out a rhythm that had Dick arching up into his grip, coming harder than he would have ever thought possible of this fragile, faulty human body. He almost missed the feeling of War following him into his own climax, the sudden tension in the body above him and the feeling of a deep, overflowing warmth inside him his only clues._

_For a while they both simply lay there, grips loosening and hearts slowing, breaths shifting from frantic to labored to simply exhausted, until, finally, War pulled out and collapsed at Dick’s side._

_“That was…” Dick sighed, running a hand over his face and marveling at how his mouth was stretched, frozen and condemning, into a lazy and obvious grin. He would have tried to rein it in but found he had little energy or desire to do so. War chuckled again, such a warm, familiar sound now. The sort of sound that creeps into pleasant dreams and fond memories._

_“Yeah. It was.”_

_Despite himself, Dick glanced at the motionless body to his right, War’s eyes closed and chest rising steadily with regained composure. He really was something else, wasn’t he? Truly a creature of legend, and yet so much less, so much more. Everything and nothing, this man. War. What would he be without that? What would Dick be without his family, his plots, his plans for world domination? What else was there?_

_War chose that moment to stretch languidly next to him, drawing the eyes to a toned physique and stretch of neck that was damn near bitable. ___

__Briefly enough not to be worrisome, Dick thought to himself, if he was all there was, if there was nothing else but him, it would be enough._ _

__He would be enough._ _

“It’s a distraction,” Dick mumbled, much less force behind his words this time. So it was no surprise when War said nothing, merely watched him, stared at him---through him, more like---with eyes narrow and analyzing. 

Until, finally, it seemed to hit him. “It’s love.” 

Dick felt his throat tighten. His human heart must have stopped beating too. That was the only explanation for the pain in his chest. “Excuse me?” 

War just rolled his eyes. “You forget, Richard,” he said plainly. “As much as you may not be completely human, I can still see inside your very human head. And you love me.” 

“Shut up, War,” Dick tried, not denying, but not agreeing either. Praying for him to drop it, more like. But, unfortunately, the floodgates had been opened. 

“You love me?” Unsure now. No. Stunned, it seemed. Dick closed his eyes, letting his balled up fists loosen, nail marks deeply embedded in the palms of his hands. 

“Like I said… Distraction,” Dick murmured, soft and low and hoping the words weren’t as quick to condemn him as the damnable body of his seemed to be; cheeks burning, heart pounding, pants tightening… Damn it all to… well, _hell_. “So please. Just-” 

“Just what, Richard?” War walked up to him, damn near sauntered, and reached out to run the backs of his fingers along Dick’s jaw. “Just pretend like you’re the only thing on this literally god-forsaken planet that’s worth anything to me?” 

The confession almost sailed past him unnoticed, Dick’s lips parting in an incredulous sort of disbelief. “You can’t mean that. Not when you have everything that you are, the conflict, the destruction. Don’t pretend that’s not-" 

“A perk of the apocalypse, surely,” War shrugged, spreading his hand out to more completely cup Dick’s cheek. Dick pretended not to lean into it and War pretended not to notice. “But just that. A perk.” 

“So then what does that make me?” Dick chuckled darkly, but War remained uncomfortably serious. 

“Everything else.” 

“You’re joking.” Dick shook his head, stepping away from War’s touch. “You have to be.” 

“And when have you ever known me to joke about the important things?” 

Dick didn’t know whether to grab War by the collar and kiss him senseless or throw something else at him, something bigger. Like his desk. “I’m so close, War. So close I can practically taste it.” He ran a hand over his face. “The last thing I need right now is to be preoccupied.” As much as it hurt, as much as everything in him was screaming for the opposite, he looked up then, willing himself to hold War’s gaze with unwavering seriousness. “Neither of us can afford that right now.” 

They were silent for a long while, the words floating between them like a band about to snap, until finally, War looked away. “You have no idea what you’re capable of, you know,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and offering Dick a casual smirk that did all manner of dangerous things to Dick’s heart. “If you don’t think you can have both, then you’re severely underestimating yourself.” And with one foot already out the door, War offered a wink for good measure. “Even the great Dick Roman has to sleep sometime. Who says he has to do it alone?” 

The door clicked shut and Dick was finally alone. But, just as expected, War’s words wouldn’t p circling about inside his head. 

It took all the way up to his next press meeting that day for the flush in Dick’s cheeks to fade, and well into the evening for his heart to stop randomly pounding against his chest. Not that War wasn’t there to rile it back up again the moment he let himself go home for the night. Not that he minded the distraction. Not at all. 


End file.
